


dreams

by HollyJinx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams, Harrymort - Freeform, M/M, Tumblr drabbles, slightly creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyJinx/pseuds/HollyJinx
Summary: for in our dreams, we enter a world that is entirely our own





	dreams

**Author's Note:**

> moving all my tumblr drabbles here, hopefully longer ones to come

“The house creaks at night.”

That was the only response he got from the boy. After spending all morning searching the manor – turning every room inside out, looking for him. Yet here the boy was, sitting outside under the canvas sky. Seemingly without a care in the world. He was livid.

“How did you manage to get out here?” He hissed, strolling up behind him. He stopped short when he noticed the boys hands.

Blood. Crimson stains crusted from fingertip to wrist.

“Harry?”

The boy was sitting on the ground – practically vibrating – with his arms outstretched. Perhaps Harry hurt someone? He smiled cruelly. 

“The house creaks at night.”

What was he talking about? The manor didn’t make a whisper at night. He had more questions than answers. Maybe he could take a look into Harry’s mind. The boy always cried so beautifully when he did. With a smirk, he swiftly moved before Harry. Only for his face to fall blank as he took in the boy’s appearance. Blood down the front of his shirt, still dripping off the side of his jaw. Small bits of flesh missing around the scar on his forehead, eyes wild, glasses missing. The boy had mutilated his own face. 

“What have you done?” He whispered, swiftly moving to kneel.

He grasped the boy’s chin, examining the wounds. They would heal easily enough. But why had he done it? Harry’s eyes were trained on his own, unseeing. 

“Legilimens.” 

Nothing.

He searched Harry’s mind finding absolutely nothing. It was completely empty. No stray thoughts or memories floating about. Nothing. Had a memory charm been cast? Was the boy in shock? He didn’t know. How aggravating.

“Tom?” 

He tensed, no one had used that name in years. He was certain Harry didn’t even know it. The boy gripped his arms tightly, now frantically searching the Dark Lord’s face. 

“What is wrong?”

“The house creaks at night,” Harry said, pleadingly.

The Dark Lord nodded.

Harry let out a relieved sigh and slumped against him, face buried in his chest. The Dark Lord went rigid. Harry never touched him before, and now here he was, holding onto him. Seeking comfort. He felt intoxicatingly powerful as Harry’s limp body weighed against his own, completely vulnerable. What a bizarre situation he found himself in. The boy was completely content within a murder’s arms. Did he not remember who the Dark Lord was? Harry’s breaths began to slow, he was dozing off. The Dark Lord shook him roughly, forcing the boy to sit on his own.

“Harry, has someone done something to you?”

“The house creaks at night,” Harry whispered. The Dark Lord grit his teeth.

“I don’t know what that means,” he hissed.

Harry scrambled away from him, panic written on his face.

“Tom!” Harry shouted. Blood began to flow from his forehead.

The Dark Lord rushed to clap his hand over the wound, but Harry had moved further away, blood pouring rapidly down his face. He began to sweat, Harry was going to die. He reached for Harry again, only for Harry to be just out of his grasp, crying out for Tom. Each time he tried to get to him, he was somewhere else, more blood pooling around them. The blood started to smoke, forcing his eyes to water. He made one last desperate attempt to grab Harry and caught him. But it wasn’t Harry.

It was Tom Riddle.

“The house creaks at night,” Harry’s voice sounded. 

Lord Voldemort awoke, Harry Potter’s laughter circling his mind.


End file.
